a thing must be loved to be lovable
by Saraconny
Summary: Beauty and the beast/beastly au


Oliver Queen. One of Star Academy's elitist rich kids.

Laurel had never been close to him, though they had interacted through their mutual friend Tommy. The main reason was because he was a pompous ass who stringed along girls just for the fun of it. Though she had never hated him, Laurel was beginning to think she might as she watched him flirt with her little sister.

"Sara," Laurel called out to her sister as she pushed away the last few people barring her way to Sara. The party Tommy was hosting was packed to the brim with horny teenagers half swaying half grinding against each other. "What are you doing here?"

Sara jumped apart from Oliver. "Oh, hey, Laurel," Oliver greeted unabashedly. "I was just getting to know Sara here."

Laurel ignored him. "Sara, you're not supposed to be here."

This earned a huff from her sister. "Laurel, it's a school dance."

Laurel knew she might be overreacting but that didn't mean she had to like it. Oliver Queen would only cause Sara pain.

Oliver grinned, clearly enjoying watching the two sisters bicker. Laurel though to herself that after she was done with her sister she would punch the stupid smirk off his face.

She squared her shoulders, ready for another inevitable fight.

"Hey, Laurel." Thankfully Tommy arrived. Tommy Merlyn, another one of Star's elites, though he was a bit more grounded than Oliver. She'd known him almost all her life and he was her oldest friend. The black haired boy nodded to Sara and Oliver. "What's going on here?"

Oliver spoke up. "It seems Laurel doesn't like me talking to Sara here for some reason if she would like to explain."

"Mmm..." Tommy frowned. He knew about Laurel's dislike for the lazy playboy. Though he never tried to severe his bonds with either of them, he also wasn't willing to back the other up. "Well, um, the music's going to start up again in a few seconds so, uh, Sara, how 'bout we share a dance?"

He was already grabbing Sara's hand and leading her out to the dance floor before she could protest. Before they disappeared in the crowd of students he shot her an apolegetic glance over his shoulder because it meant he had to leave her alone with Oliver, who was still grinning down at her.

"Care for a dance, Lance?" he wiggled his eyebrows and his grin widened.

She headed towards the punchbowl. "In your dreams, Queen."

As if she would want to dance with Oliver Queen. He was a self centered jerk who didn't mind dragging everyone else down along with him. Laurel knew she was no angel herself, but at least she tried to help others and stick up for them. She angrily grabbed one of the plastic cups and dumped some punch into it.

"Asshole," she muttered under her breath.

"I wouldn't call myself that exactly." She groaned because of course he followed her. He poured some punch into a cup then took a long sip.

"Still sure you don't want to dance with me? Might be your only opportunity before someone whisks me away. After all, nice rich guy like me is hard to find." He's closed the distance between them and she takes a step back.

"Please," she scoffs. "Your looks are the only thing getting you by."

"Oh really. Just my looks." He quirked an eyebrow up though the smile didn't reach his eyes anymore. "What makes you say that?"

His tone of voice issued a challenge and if there's one thing Laurel could never resist was a challenge.

"Well, for one, like you stated, you're rich which means people care more about your money than you. And two, you're good looking, making you the best option compared to all those other old single billionaires out there," she was on a roll. "Plus you're a complete conceited asshole. People like you, Ollie, don't change. You stay the same the rest of your life not caring about anybody else."

He took a step back, regarding her and the smile slipped. Good, she thought, he deserved to be knocked down a few pegs.

"So I'm guessing that's a no to the dance," he said and grinned at her again but this time with no hint of humor. "Guess I'll have to go test your theory as to why people like me."

He hands her his cup with a smirk and heads to one of the tables. Not many people are seated, mainly the people who nobody wanted to dance with. Laurel narrowed her eyes as she finally deduced who he was heading towards.

Though Laurel didn't know the girl's name she knew of her. The only handicapped student in the school, she stood out from the rest as she navigated the halls with her white cane and dark glasses covering her eyes. Laurel had heard the girl was a prodigy, earning the money to attend the prestigious private school through inventions despite her disability.

She was sitting in one of the far corners in what Laurel would consider a nice dress with the exception of the gaudy shawl. It screamed with color and looked as if it was made out of different types of lace patterns.

Laurel watched in stunned defeat as Oliver leaned across the table to the girl, his grin widening when she responded. Bile grew in her mouth as she saw Oliver help the girl up. He gave her a smirk, triumphant in his eyes as the pair walked by her.

She wanted to dump the punch on him and by the time she had come up with a good back up plan to do it the two were already lost in the crowd.

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><p>Oliver had a list of things he wanted to do but dancing with a blind girl would not be one of them. Her cane was gripped tightly in her hand and her glasses were still on, but he didn't mind. They couldn't exactly sway to the music like others around them were doing since she seemed afraid of potentially hitting somebody, opting for a half step to the right then to the left in time with the music.<p>

Her blonde hair spilled down past her shoulders and he noticed the dress she wore was layered. She wasn't ugly, but she was nowhere near the beauty of Laurel.

Laurel was...stubborn to say the least. She was at least a decade older in maturity level than the rest of the students and it seemed everyday she reminded them how much better she was whenever she did something nice, like help raise money for a charity. He didn't know when his attraction began with her but he liked seeing her get irritated with him, trying to stem the anger threatening to spill out of her.

"So," he tried to make conversation to try to forget about Laurel and the reason he was even dancing with this girl. If he hadn't challenged Laurel he wouldn't be caught dead dancing with this girl, one of the reasons he had maneuvered them to a darker area of the dance floor. "You often manage to dance with young billionaires?"

She shrugged, pushing her glasses up as they slipped off. "Is your ego so easily hurt that you need to ask a blind girl out for a dance?"

That stopped him and his feet moved to a standstill. As if sensing something was off, she too stopped. "What do you mean by that?"

"Jeannie Hilton, Tony Daniel, Cyrus Vanch; any of those names ring a bell?" she prompts.

They sounded familiar but he couldn't remember them.

She frowned. "You really don't remember them." He shook his head no but then realized the motion would be lost on her.

"Wow, that's sad Oliver. Do you at least know my name?"

He had an uneasy feeling this wasn't going to end well but still he answers the question. "No."

She nodded her head with a frown tugging at her fuchsia lips. "I was really hoping that wasn't the case, Oliver. Your dependency on looks is sad and your character is poor. I just hope you can embrace your future as much as you've embraced this lifestyle."

He stepped back. There was something different about her, "Get away from me, freak."

If the music had still been going his comment would have gone unheard but they were transitioning to a new song and it seemed as if the whole school had hear him. All noise sucked out of the gym.

There were angry glares thrown at him. Nobody was friends with her but it was a silent rule not to be rude to the kid with the handicap.

Oliver turned to them in apology. "I can explain guys I..." The words died on his lips as he saw Tommy next to Laurel, disappointment across their faces.

He turned around to apologize, not wanting to be known as the guy who made fun of the blind girl, but she was already gone, the door swinging shut from where she left.

He knew if he didn't fix this he would be on the end of the spectrum so he ran outside but she was nowhere in sight. He turned don to the left corner but she wash;t there, then the right, yet still no sight of her.

A sharp jolt of pain hit him making him feel queasy. Another one attacked him, sending a shrieking pain in his skull. He'd been drunk before but this feels different so he ignored the dining in his ears and sent a text to his personal driver before leaning heavily against the wall.

His legs felt like jello and he forced himself back up, heading towards the school entrance where he usually got dropped off.

The black limo was already there by the time he arrived and the drive didn't comment when he collapsed against the leather seats.

He felt like throwing up and stumbled into his room before collapsing into sleep.

In the morning he found out why he was feeling so sick. And it was not a pretty sight.

* * *

><p><strong>Author Note: Pairing you prefer for the end? Just comment or message me which one.<strong>


End file.
